


I Don't Need You

by hithelleth



Series: All the Things Gone Wrong [3]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt, Insanity, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:32:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once she started, Rachel didn’t know how to stop her vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Need You

The first thing Miles did upon returning from a war campaign in the north was ask where Monroe was and what had been done with him. After everything that had happened, Bass was still the first thing on his list of concerns.

He wasn’t satisfied with a simple answer that the ex-president was imprisoned, either. No. He went down to the cells and poked around until someone told him Monroe was being interrogated by Mrs Matheson.

Rachel was just half-way through the session when Miles burst through the door.

Sheer horror appeared on Miles’ face as he took in the scene, glued to the spot. When he could finally move, he hurried right over to Bass and started untying him.

Rachel couldn’t let him do that. She called in the guards. It took four to restrain Miles, who was fighting like a grizzly, all the while berating Rachel for doing this, saying she wasn’t in her right mind.

The disbelief when she ordered that he be tied up was what stopped him fighting just long enough for the guards to do what they’d been told to.

“You want to know what I’m doing? You can watch.”

“Rachel, don’t do this. This isn’t you.” Miles couldn’t reconcile this stranger who went so calmly about torturing a person with his sister-in-law – a strong, decisive, yes, but also loving, gentle woman he had once known.

“You’re wrong Miles, this is me. This is what _you_ made me when you betrayed me. This is what four years being held captive by him,” she pointed at Bass, her voice thick with venom, “made of me. And now you are taking _his_ side? Again? You will watch, because this is all your doing. Always choosing him over your family.”

Rachel was furious. It wasn’t anything new and it wasn’t bad. Recently, anger was a veil keeping her from looking at her life. If she had allowed herself to look beyond it, she would have found out that she was actually hurt, not angry. Hurt by all the losses she suffered, by all the wrong choices she made, by the people who should have put her first, like Miles right now. But she wouldn’t let herself feel that pain. Because if she had, she wasn’t sure she could get over it. Anger was better. It allowed her to do things, to be the one in charge, not a damsel in distress.

Miles opened his mouth to object, to say he had chosen his family in the end, but he changed his mind. He had been too late. And it hadn’t been his last mistake. He had underestimated Rachel, they all had. She must have had some connections with the outside world even when she had been Bass’ prisoner. He had been too preoccupied with the war and taking the Republic down to follow the suspicion about the welcome they had received in Georgia. He should have known better. And after they had taken Philly, he shouldn’t have left Rachel alone with the Georgians. It had been the second time he had left her and it had gone even worse than the first time. He saw that now. He should have taken care of the matters concerning Bass by himself, but he had mistrusted his own feelings and put too much faith into the damn Georgian laws and justice.

Miles refocused on what Rachel was doing.

She had dismissed the guards, telling them to stay outside the door. She would finish what she had been at.

She picked up the forceps. She was getting good at this. Not so messy anymore.

She ignored Miles’ imploring her no to do what she was about to.  

It was pathetic. The way these two clung to each other. Too attached to one another, always looking out for each other. That’s why Miles would still try to save Monroe.

Rachel scowled and turned her back on Miles, who was still struggling to free himself. She was met by the sight of Bass, bloody and sweating, slumped helplessly against the ties which the guards had secured before leaving the room. He was quiet, drawing shallow breaths through parted lips, his face streaked with dried traces of tears. But his eyes, those disturbingly blue eyes, were trained on Miles, never moving. Pathetic.

Rachel was just about to kneel down to get on with it, finally – she had other things to do later, when the door opened again. Charlie rushed in, followed by a guard who was grabbing at her to make her stop. Rachel motioned to him to let her be. He stepped aside, but stayed in the room.

Charlie paled at the sight of Monroe and turned away only to be faced with Miles.

“Mom? What is going on? Why is Miles tied up?!” she demanded at once.

Charlie was the same as everybody else. Her own daughter and all she was concerned about was Miles.

“The traitor tried to free him.” Rachel sneered. She tried to explain, but Charlie just stared at her with those naïve, judgy wide eyes of hers. She didn’t understand that her dear uncle wanted to rescue Monroe, the man responsible for her father’s and brother’s deaths, the man who had kept her captive, who had had her tortured.

“Don’t you think he,” Rachel pointed at Bass, “deserves a taste of his own medicine? Shouldn’t he pay for what happened to your dad, to Danny, to me?”

“Yes, but,” Charlie threw a quick glance at Monroe, who didn’t seem to pay attention to what was going on, still looking only at Miles, “not like this. He should be punished, but doing this makes you just as bad as him.”

Rachel couldn’t believe her ears. “You think I’m just as bad as him?” She let the tool she was holding fall to the floor. “Let me show you.”

She hitched up her blouse, not caring about the guard’s presence. Everyone should know her suffering, should know she had every right to retaliate. A little voice in the back of her mind said it wasn’t the same, that there were only five scars on the underside of her upper arm and five on her side, but she refused to listen to it.

Miles didn’t waste any time to point it out for her, though, the contrast between her few scars and Monroe’s crisscrossed skin, old scars mingled with new, healed cuts interspersed with scabbed ones and those freshly bleeding where she had torn off the scabs instead of searching for new spots to cut.

“For God’s sake, Rachel, what has become of you? Look at him! I’m sure as hell nothing like that had been done to you!”

“Nothing like that? And how do you know?” She let go of the fabric, covering herself, and turned to Miles. “Do you think that one toenail being pulled of or one cut hurts any less then the second? Do you think I can ever forget how it hurt? He deserves to feel it a thousand times so he won’t be able to forget it, either!”

“You wouldn’t have had to.” The voice was so weak they almost missed the words. But they stopped shouting anyway, just to make sure.

Bass, who had broken out of his trance, went on, between sharp, laboured intakes of breath: “If you had only… told me… what I wanted to know… no one would’ve hurt you. Just… Just like I… I’ll tell you anything… please… Miles… tell her… I’ll tell her everything… just ask.” Bass coughed, gasping for air. “Just tell me what you… want from me.”

“You’re not even doing this for information?!” There was disgust mixed with horror in Miles’ voice, while Charlie just stood there, growing paler. 

“What information? He can’t tell me anything. We’ll find the weapons in good time, as well as the rest of the militia.”

“Rachel, you can’t just torture him for – w… what…” Miles trailed off, staring at her. “This is, this is worse than killing him, Rachel.”

“Mom, you have to stop,” Charlie chipped in, “Bring him to justice, but not like this. Just stop.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Rachel looked from one to another. She knew they were right. She knew she should have stopped a long time ago, but she just didn’t know how.  

She picked up the gun lying on the table, Miles’ gun, which the guards had taken from him and forgotten there. She flipped the safety off.

“But what do you suggest I do, Miles? Can’t let him go unpunished, can’t torture him. He’s no use to me.”

Rachel looked at Bass, a shadow of the man he had once been. Suddenly, she just wanted it all to be over with. A lump formed in her throat.

She pointed the weapon at Bass.

“Rachel…” Miles’ voice was just a breath. “Don’t.”

She pulled the trigger. 

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, so quibble away if you see something (I'm sleepy and my back hurts, so I've probably overlooked things). So, is Rachel a completely unhinged bitch or does she deserve some sympathy?


End file.
